


Paper Angels

by kalikala28



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable, Christmas Fluff, Ficlet, Kissing, M/M, Oneshot, Original Character(s), definite feels, seriously the cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:21:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2778062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalikala28/pseuds/kalikala28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel stumbles upon the paper angel tree at the mall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Angels

_That's it. No more. I can't take it._

Dean was officially 5000% done with Christmas this year. At this point-- standing in a mall being jostled by hundreds of strangers-- if he sees one more ugly sweater or hears another God awful version of Jingle Bell Rock he's going to go postal. He'd only needed one thing. _One_. He looked behind him. _Aaaand Cas is gone. Again. Damn it._

The first time the angel had disappeared, Dean had found him-- an hour later-- cleaning out the hamster cages in the pet store. ("But, Dean. They needed clean bedding.") Dean huffed, annoyed at the memory, and turned in place, trying to locate Cas. Dean spotted him a little ways behind, messing with the decorations on one of the hundred gaudy trees the mall had put up. He stalked towards him.

"Damn it, Cas. What did I say about getting distracted?" He demanded. "What are you doing?"

Castiel turned around, arms full, little slips of paper cascading out of them and onto the floor. "Dean. We have to help the angels." He gestured to the sign near the tree. _Choose an angel. Help an angel. Be an angel_.

"Cas. Those aren't actual angels. They're kids, who's parents can't do Christmas this year."

“I know that.”

Dean sighed. "We don't have time for this."

"I want to help them." He clutched the paper angels tighter.

"Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “What's credit card fraud for, if you can't spread some Christmas cheer?" He tried to ignore the grin on the angel's face. "Pick _one_. You can't take them all."

"But--"

"Look, the point of the angel tree is so people who can help someone get the chance, if you take all the angels, no one else will get to experience the joy of Christmas." He mostly meant it ironically, but Cas took him seriously, and nodded. He began hanging the slips of paper back onto the tree. Dean helped. When they were finished, Castiel held up a paper.

"I choose this one."

Dean took the paper from him and read it. The one side listed the child's name (Emily), age (4) and sizes (4T). The other side was meant for the child to write their list to Santa. The girl had only listed one thing, in a childish scrawl, "Winter boots please." Someone else, a parent maybe, had added “for playing in the snow.”

Dean swallowed thickly. What kind of four year old asks Santa for a pair of boots? The kind of four year old without much at all. He tried not to think about what Sam would have written on his angel, if he'd had the chance when they were younger... he failed. "Good choice, man. Let's go."

Cas hesitated and glanced back at the tree. "What about the others?"

"They'll be fine Cas, I promise."

They started in a shoe store. Dean sent Cas in to buy the boots. "Hey, man. It's your angel, you can do the legwork." He sat on a bench outside the store to wait, perking up when he spotted Cas headed to the register. He sighed and hurried into the store when he noticed the boots Cas had picked. "Cas. You can't get those."

The angel looked down at the boots in his hand worriedly. "Why not?"

"They're _camoflage_. Not that girls can't rock some camo, but she's _four_." He pulled the boots out of Cas' hands and went back to the little girls section. He looked over the selection for a moment before pulling a pair off the shelf. "These."

"I'm not sure what difference it makes. Either pair will keep her feet adequately dry and warm."

"I know Cas, but Christmas isn't about what's adequate."

"The unicorns make them better?"

"For a four year old? Yes. And look, they change color in the cold! That's... that's awesome."

They took the boots to the register and paid. Castiel began walking back towards the tree of angels. Dean grabbed his wrist to stop him, and then dropped it quickly with a blush. "Where are you going?"

"We purchased the item on the list, now I have to go turn them in."

Dean shook his head. "No way, man." Castiel tilted his head at him. "Look. You picked that little girl. That means it’s your responsibility to make her Christmas awesome."

Cas looked back at the angel in his hand. "But, all she wanted was boots. How can I know what else she wants?"

"She's a little girl. Can't be that hard to figure out. Come on. If you’re gonna do this, you have to do it right."

Several hours later, they made their way back to the angel tree, Cas carrying too many bags, and Dean pushing a large box (with more bags atop it) through the crowd. Dean was exhausted, but they were both grinning ear to ear.

The woman at the desk wore a harried but genuine smile. “Hello gentlemen! You here to donate?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Dean smiled back and Cas dug out the paper angel from his pocket, handing it to the woman.

“Okay then. Which of these bags?”

“All of them.” Castiel answered.

“A-all of them?”

“Wait! Um.” Dean pulled a small bag out of the pile. “Not this one. It’s for my brother.”

“But. _All_ the rest?” She looked a bit overwhelmed.

“All the rest.”

On the way home, Dean couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop thinking about that little girl coming out on Christmas morning, and being so surprised. He noticed Cas watching him. “What?”

“You seem happy.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean fidgeted with the steering wheel for a moment. “I’m glad you picked an angel, Cas. I bet she has the _best_ Christmas, I wish...” He let the words hang.

“What?”

“I kinda wish we could see it, you know? How happy it makes her?”

Cas made a non-committal noise, thinking, but Dean didn’t seem to notice his preoccupation.

* * *

“Dean.”

Dean looked up from his pillow, bleary eyed, hand tightening around the handle of the knife he kept there. “Cas? What are you doing?”

“It’s Christmas morning.” The angel came to stand next to his bed.

“Uuuggghhhh.” Dean flopped back onto his pillow.

“Wake up, Dean.”

“Just a few more minutes Cas.” He snuggled back down under the covers.

Cas shook the hunter’s shoulder. “But I want to give you your gift.”

“What are you, five?” But he sat up, grudgingly interested. “Is it coffee?” He joked.

“No. Come here.”

Dean made a show of exasperation, but moved to stand next to him, trying to calm his suddenly racing heart. “Okay. Here I am. Where is it?”

Castiel pressed two fingers to his forehead, and they were transported elsewhere.

“Damn it, Cas.” Dean whispered harshly. “I told you not to do that without warning me! Where are we?” He looked around at the unfamiliar house they were standing in, trying to get his bearings.

“You don’t have to whisper. They can’t hear or see you.” A small smile grew on his face as he looked behind Dean. Dean turned to see what he was looking at, a small girl with wild red hair and freckles was shuffling towards them down a hallway. She paid them no mind and walked past.

“Who is that? Where are we?”

Cas made to follow her, and beckoned for Dean to come too. “It’s Emily. You wanted to see her Christmas morning. This is my gift to you.”

“Cas...” He didn’t know what to say. It felt like too much. “You shouldn’t have-- I didn’t-- You shouldn’t be using your Grace for--”

“Dean.” It was a half warning.

Dean swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Now come on, before you miss it.”

Dean slipped past where the little girl was peering into her parent’s room, finding himself in a living room next to a spindly Christmas tree that had been virtually swallowed by the presents around it.

Emily edged into the room, and her eyes grew big at the sight before her. She breathed a soft, “Wow.” Before turning and running back towards the bedrooms. “MAMA MAMA MAMA! Come see! Did you see? MAMA GET UP, SANTA WAS HERE. I never SEENED so many presents!”

Dean swallowed thickly, and looked at Cas with a watery smile before huffing a laugh at himself for getting misty eyed. The girl appeared again, dragging an amused if not tired mom behind her.

“Look it, look it, look it!” She bounced up and down excitedly.

“Oh my goodness. That is a lot of presents.”

“They’re for me?” She asked, hopeful. Her mother laughed.

“Well, let’s see.” She picked up the nearest package. “What does this say?” She pointed to the name tag.

“Emily! That’s me!”

“They must be for you then.” Her mom smiled. “Well, come on! We better get started, or you’ll be opening presents ‘til next Christmas!”

Dean and Castiel stood in the back of the room and watched as the girl tore each gift open. Each squeal of delight made Dean’s chest swell with happiness and pride, and it got harder and harder not to get excited with her. She opened the boots (along with the winter coat, snow pants, hat, gloves, warm socks, and brand new sled), and started pulling them on over her pajamas. Her mom laughed and suggested she finish opening the rest before she went outside to play. She thought about it, and nodded solemnly before setting them carefully aside and grabbing another package.

“Mama, he’s _perfect_.” She whispered when she unwrapped the baby doll Cas had picked for her.

Dean nudged the angel with his elbow, who looked away with a small smile. Cas returned the gesture when she pulled the paper off the giant box that held a play kitchen, her pealing giggles filling the room, and Dean blushed.

It took a little over an hour for her to get through it all, and then she hurried to her bedroom to get dressed while her mom looked at the disaster of her living room with a bemused smile. When she returned, in an outfit that did not match in the least bit, Her mom stifled her laughter and helped her into her outer wear. As she stepped into her new boots, her mom said, “These are nice boots. How did Santa know you like unicorns?”

Emily seemed to be giving it serious thought. “Do you think Santa can get into heaven?”

Her mom sucked in a breath and then cleared her throat. “Oh, baby, I’m sure he can.”

“Daddy must have told him, then. Right?”

“You know what? I bet that’s exactly what happened.” She said it with a smile, but her voice shook, and Dean had to turn away. “Are you ready?”

The little girl nodded vigorously, the hair escaping out of the bottom of her hat bouncing wildly. She ran to the door and fidgeted as her mom pulled it open, and then took careful steps into the soft white snow on the porch. She whooped suddenly, and then ran into the small yard and flopped down to make a snow angel.

Cas turned to Dean and held up two fingers, “Are you ready to go?” Dean looked out the front door at the little girl one last time, and hesitated before nodding. Just before Cas had a chance to zap them back to the bunker, Dean heard the girl yell, “Mama, they’re magic! My boots are MAGIC!”

Dean felt the split second jolt of motion, and found himself back in his bedroom. He looked at Cas, a little overwhelmed, and wrapped him in a hug before the moment passed and he lost the chance. When he pulled away, Cas was smiling.

“You liked your gift?”

Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, man. I haven’t felt like this... Ever. I feel like we did a good thing.”

Cas looked at him, perplexed. “Dean, you do good things for people all the time.”

“I know, but everything’s always so broken after we’ve ‘helped’ someone, that it hardly feels like helping at all. This... This was good. You made that little girl’s Christmas, Cas.”

“I can hardly take credit for that, Dean.”

Dean could tell he was holding something back. “What?”

Castiel sighed. “I wish you could see you the way I see you.. You look behind you and see jagged scars left on the world, and you blame yourself, but you are not the knife that tears the world open, Dean, you are the needle that applies the sutures.” The hunter did not seem to have a response to that, so Cas went on, unable to stop the words. “Free will was not meant as a gift, Dean. It was a curse, a burden. You bear that cross more beautifully than any other being in my Father’s creation. Every choice you make is selfless and righteous, or at the least you believe it to be, and that is what matters. I am so humbled by the gift of your friendship, and I would be content in that forever, but I...”

Dean searched his face, “But what, Cas?”

“But I would be whatever you wanted me to be.”

Dean’s heart was racing. Was he saying that... Did that mean... Had they always been standing this close? “So, if I wanted... more?”

“Whatever you need of me, I will give it.”

Dean swallowed, and closed his eyes. “I- I just need you, Cas.”

The angel brought a hand up to Dean’s face, and brushed his thumb along his jaw. “You have me.” Dean opened his eyes and stared with a bit of wonder. “Can I kiss you now, Dean?” Dean nodded, and Cas leaned forward to press his lips against the hunter’s, waiting until Dean’s tongue swept across his lip before opening his mouth and letting the kiss become as sweet as he’d imagined.

When they pulled apart, they were both smiling, a bit shyly. “We should do that again next year.”

“The kissing?” Castiel asked, alarmed and disappointed.

Dean laughed. “No, the paper angel. The kissing we should do again right now.” He pulled Cas in for another kiss, who sighed into it.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”


End file.
